It wasn’t his fault….

Kindnesses Big and Small

It wasn’t his fault. 

He was adopted shortly after birth by a family with good intentions. But good intentions don’t always translate into positive results. 

He was a handful. He was too much for them from the start, and they should have known better. Many households are a mess. This one was a train wreck. 

Around the time he was seven, the adoptive parents put him in the back seat of their car, drove to the streets of Jerusalem, and let him out, to fend for himself. 

To forage for food. To find shelter from the elements.

He was no longer their problem. 

I don’t know how long he wandered the winding streets and alleys, looking for scraps of food and a roof over his head. His handsome body drew gaunt from hunger, his face pained from neglect. 

Eventually, he was picked up by the authorities, and taken to a place where he would live with others like him. 

The local animal shelter. 

This purebred Labrador, whose original name was unknown, was fed and sheltered there, while he awaited a new family. His seven dog years, or one human year, had been traumatic. Life in the shelter was not all that much better. The animals competed for the food rations that were thrown over the fences, and they fought like cats and dogs, largely because that’s what they were. 

If the animals were ever washed, it was probably by the rains, which meant that they were also strolling around in the mud at the same time, so any cleanliness achieved was quickly negated.

There he spent the next seven of his years/one of ours, where he scared away any potential family looking to take him home.

—

My son Arky and his wife Gayil were in search of a Labrador. While living up north as undergrads, they had taken part in a program run by an organization which trains guide dogs for the sight-impaired. They had been volunteer mentors, taking several dogs into their small apartment over the years, and, with the guidance of the non-profit, teaching the dogs a series of behaviors in real-life situations which they would need when they were eventually placed with a blind person. 

They would need to go together to the grocery, take the bus, sit through classes, cross streets, play in the park, and any other imaginable scenario. 

Each time that their training phase concluded, there was an ache in their hearts as they had to give one of these beautiful, loving companions back to the experts for more advanced training. 

They didn’t always pass the rigorous course, and one of them, Ketem (Spot, in English), ended up moving to the US, becoming Arky’s aunt and uncle’s beloved sidekick. 

—

Fast forward a few years, and Arky and Gayil now lived in a lovely yishuv (settlement) in the Jerusalem area. It was time for a dog of their own. They knew how trainable, beautiful and lovable Labradors were, so that breed was high on their list.

They saw a cute picture of the Labrador on the shelter’s website. The shelter had named him Benjy. And Benjy looked oh so much like the dogs they had cared for and trained. They made an appointment.

At the shelter, they surveyed the surroundings, trying to look beyond the less-than-stellar physical conditions. 

And there he was. 

Benjy was well aware that you only get one chance to make a lasting first impression, and as Gayil began petting him, he marked his territory…on her leg. 

Arky and Gayil asked to take Benjy for a walk, and quickly understood why no one in that long year had agreed to take him home. 

His troubled upbringing was obvious from the start. As they strolled through the grounds of the shelter, Benjy proved to be stubborn and strong-willed, always wanting to go his way. He pounced at every cat along the way, and there were many. Walking him was little less than a wrestling match. 

Maybe Benjy was too much for them, they feared. But they saw something special beyond his filthy fur. And they had an idea. They went to the office of the shelter to discuss it with the manager. Benjy, seemingly intent on cementing his first impression as a difficult case, decided to again relieve himself, this time on the office floor. 

Thinking outside of the puddle, they asked for permission to take him off the grounds, and walk him through the surrounding neighborhood, away from his animal competitors, distant from his usual turf wars. 

— 

Offsite, Benjy was a different animal. He strolled along with them peacefully, block after block. Discarding their initial skepticism, it was love at second sight. They decided to take Benjy home.

They also decided that the name “Benjy” was no fit for this dog (besides, Rabbi Benjy Staiman is already a respected teacher in Jerusalem, so the name hardly seemed appropriate!). Following due consideration, they decided to dub him “Scooby”. 

—

The training they had learned up north was employed on Scooby. He developed into a calm, obedient house pet. 

Unless he saw a cat, of course.

Scooby welcomed three newborn humans into his growing family. In fact “Scooby” was the first word uttered by their eldest child!

He always treated the little ones gently, even when they pulled his ear, yanked on his tail, or treated him like their personal jungle gym. The only time he barked was when he was left outside on the porch, where he experienced FOMO (fear of missing out), because he wanted to be included in the goings-on inside. 

Scooby was a great companion, with a bit of a mischievous side — he liked to run away from time to time. A lot of hours were spent over the years searching for him, at least until the advent of Apple AirTags, which helped the family locate him when he disappeared.

—

From time to time, families go away, and pets are not always welcome. Sometimes, my wife Chana and I would take him. Other times, there is a kindly family in Ramat Beit Shemesh that welcomed Scooby whenever they needed. 

Scooby, happy in his new home.
Photo: Tevi Hirschhorn

The Hirschhorn kids, Yehuda, Ezra, Shevy, Ashi and Nechama, really, really wanted a dog. Let’s just say that their parents, Tevi and Shoshana, were not as excited about the idea. But the opportunity to have a dog around for a weekend, and then being able to give him back…that was much more appealing! The kids could enjoy Scooby, and there was no long-term commitment.  

—

The Dog Days of War

On that black day of October 7th, 2023, Arky was called to duty. Like countless thousands of others, he ran home from the Simchat Torah services, traded his Yom Tov clothing for his green IDF uniform, and bid a quick, emotional farewell to his wife and small children (I’m not sure if Scooby got a hug as well). 

No one knew what lay ahead. Would he be gone for days, weeks, months? 

Gayil, to her great credit, jumped into her new role. She had been Imma for a long time now. Now she had to be Abba, too. And cooker and cleaner and chauffeur and babysitter and…and…and! She was a rock, laser-focused on keeping her kids happy and safe. It took every ounce of strength to manage each day with a smile, but it was her sacred calling. Nothing else mattered. 

And what of Scooby? On the one hand, he was a member of the family, too. On the other, the responsibility of walking him several times a day, taking him to the vet when needed, all while caring for her kids…. It was not simple.

—

A lot of people step up during war time, in a multitude of ways, big and small. And sometimes, the small things turn out to be game-changers. 

Enter the Hirschhorns. Shoshana called: “would you like us to take Scooby until Arky comes back from the war?”. Such a simple, beautiful gesture, that would make a huge difference in the life of an army family determinedly working to hold things together. 

The Hirschhorn kids were thrilled. They finally had their dog, albeit temporarily. He was loved and cared for.

Arky came home a couple months later, but remained on call. He was later called back. Scooby remained in Ramat Beit Shemesh. Arky and Gayil’s kids sometimes visited him when they were in the neighborhood. The situation was working.

Around six or seven months into the war, when it was evident that there was no apparent end date to the fighting, they asked the Hirschhorns if they would like to keep Scooby. 

I don’t know if Yehuda, Ezra, Shevy, Ashi and Nechama got a vote, but Tevi and Shoshana needed a little time to think about it. Not long later, they came back with a “yes”, and Scooby is now a beloved member of their family, too. They tell us that he gives them as much love as they give him, and that he’s an incredible emotional support, intuiting whenever someone needs companionship. He’s also a bit of a celebrity around their community, as they are always out walking him, and he has quite a following among the local children. 

—

Usually, war stories involving dogs are about their military service and sacrifice. This one is more about the thoughtfulness of friends, and the momentous difference it can make in a family’s life. 

That’s truly a heroic tail!